My Sundown
by saxgirl42
Summary: Usually reaps come as second nature to me, but not today... Rube's last reap. Rated T for Roxy and Mason's mouths.


**_Author's Note:_ **This is my first "Dead Like Me" fic, and I'm terribly sorry it's a sad one. I just got this thought during one of the episodes and it never left! I honestly whipped this up in about an hour or two, so if there are any huge mistakes, I apologize. It was also about one or two in the morning. (Fellow writers, I'm sure you can relate.)

Please, enjoy reading, and comment!

_**Disclaimer:**_ I do not own "Dead Like Me" or any of the characters. The lyrics belong to Jimmy Eat World.

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**My Sundown**

_I see it around me, I see it in everything_

_I could be so much more than this_

_I've said my goodbyes, this is my sundown_

_I'm gonna be so much more than this_

I am later than usual this morning, and for the strangest reasons. I think I spent too much time choosing my clothes, or maybe I lingered too long in the shower. It's strange how much you treasure the little things when you know they are your last.

I pull my truck into the spot between George's Mustang and Roxy's cruiser and turn off the engine. I close my eyes and lean back on the leather seat, allowing the morning sun to warm me as it beats through the windshield. It's a beautiful day and I want to cherish it as much as possible. I finally reach over into the passenger seat and grab my leather-bound ledger, then head into Der Wauffle Haus.

There they are, all four of them, already bickering at our usual table. Roxy has removed her hat and looks on the brink of shooting Mason, who is seated across from her and looking far too innocent. Daisy is sipping orange juice beside him and eyeing George mischievously. The youngest of our group is already dressed for work, and she's nursing a cup of coffee while trying - and failing - to avoid Daisy's gaze. Oh, our family.

I walk up just in time for Roxy to pull out her gun and point it threateningly at Mason's face.

"Don't fuck with me this morning, pretty boy. I pulled an all-nighter catching a murder suspect last night and I haven't had my coffee yet, so just keep your damn hands off my hashed browns," she says, glaring over the barrel. Mason's eyes go wide and he grins at Daisy, apparently unperturbed by the gun a few inches from his face.

"Hear that, she thinks I'm pretty," he says. I step in just as Roxy's finger tenses over the trigger.

"Good morning, children, aren't we happy today?" I say cheerfully, attempting to spread my good mood. Daisy is the only one who smiles back, putting her orange juice down gently.

"Rube, will you kindly tell Georgia that because we share a house, she should feel required to tell me anything interesting that happens within its four walls?" she asks. George almost spits coffee in outrage.

"Are you kidding? You have no right to pry into my personal business!" she exclaims. Daisy smiles at her with a patience I can only envy.

"I'm merely trying to protect you, sweetie. You remember the last time a boy hurt you? You ended up in jail," she replies calmly. George huffs and slams down her coffee. Some of it sloshes onto the table and I wince.

"That still doesn't give you the right to stick your nose in my business! Rube, tell her!" She looks up at me with big, angry eyes, and I find myself unable to deny her.

"Daisy, if Georgia needs to tell you something, she will," I say. George smiles victoriously and picks her coffee up again with a flourish. Daisy just shrugs and sits back, crossing her arms.

"Fine."

"Rube, I have to get back to the station soon," Roxy says, re-holstering her gun. "Can I just get my reap?"

"Sure, but I have to talk to you privately before you leave," I say. Roxy's eyes narrow, but she says nothing. George slides out of the booth first to allow the cop to stand.

"You can say whatever you have to say to her in front of all of us," she says pointedly.

"You have your secrets, I have mine, peanut. Be patient," I reply, patting her on the shoulder before walking with Roxy to the door.

"So what is this huge secret?" Roxy asks, putting her hat on as she prepares to leave. I don't answer immediately; instead, I open my ledger and pull out six post-its, keeping five and handing one to her. She takes it without the slightest glance and slips it into her breast pocket, then raises her eyebrows at me, a clear sign that she wants an answer. I hesitate, then hug her tightly. When I pull away, I carefully put my ledger in her right hand.

"I think you know," I say quietly. She stares open-mouthed at the book, then up at me.

"Today?" she asks, and her voice is different; smaller, fearful, and not at all like Roxy. I understand, though, and don't comment on it.

"Today." Roxy nods and grips the ledger tightly to her chest.

"The boss knows where to deliver them now?"

"Of course."

"And I just hand them out as assigned?"

"That's it."

"Okay. Then..." She pauses and takes in a deep breath. "Good luck, Rube."

"Thank you." We stand in silence for a moment, then she - surprisingly - salutes me and leaves, but not before I see her wiping her eye. Roxy... always pretending to be so strong. I will miss her.

I head back to the table a little sadder than before, but still in a rather good mood. I take a seat beside George, who obligingly slides further into the booth.

"So what was that about?" she asks. I look up from the post-its in my hand and see her staring at me suspiciously. A quick glance across the table shows the same expressions on Mason and Daisy, and I laugh.

"Nothing! Can't I just have a private word with a friend?" Without letting them reply, I dole out the reaps, placing one in front of each. "Oh, and Mason," I say, holding the extra up, "this is for you. A gift, I guess you could say." Curious, Mason reaches across the table and plucks the note from my hand, and his eyes light up when he sees the name.

"P. Lewingstone? As in Paul Lewingstone, _the_ Paul Lewingstone?" he asks. I smile and nod; it's like a kid on Christmas. Mason grins. "My God. I get to reap _another_ rock legend!" Daisy eyes her own post-it and frowns.

"M. Lewingstone... a relation?" she asks, then checks the location and E.T.D. on Mason's note. "Huh. Group death. Georgia, who do you have?" George checks her post-it without enthusiasm.

"No one special, I guess," she says, and I feel a guilty pang in my gut.

"Excuse me, Kiffany!" I call, raising my hand. Kiffany arrives with a smile and a pot of coffee. "Can you get my young friend here the freshest piece of pie you have available?"

"Is cherry all right, sweetheart?" she asks George.

"Uhhh, sure," George answers, baffled. Kiffany bustles off to the kitchen and I feel a little better. Mason is gaping at me.

"Why do you always buy _her_ food? She has a fucking job!" he says.

"Oh, quit complaining, you get to reap a rock legend." George smiles smugly at him.

"Yeah, don't bite the hand that feeds you or whatever," she says, and I chuckle. Mason actually appears placated, and he absently checks his other post-it.

"Bloody fuck, Rube, this is in ten minutes!" he cries, jumping to his feet and almost upsetting the entire table. Daisy hurriedly lets him slide out of the booth, but I catch his arm before he leaves.

"Good-bye, Mason. And good luck." He blinks at me, then smiles helplessly.

"Bye, Rube. Can you let go now?" I obey and he runs for the exit. I watch him go and am surprised when I catch myself blinking back tears. Who'd have thought I'd miss that drunken Englishman?

"You okay, Rube?" I turn back to see George fixing me with a strange look, but it disappears as soon as Kiffany returns with her piece of cherry pie, warmed and steaming with perfection.

"Thanks, Kiffany," she gushes, digging in. Kiffany smiles and winks at me.

"Oh, don't thank me, honey. I only brought it. Your friend here ordered it for you," she says. George pauses with a bite halfway to her mouth and fixes me with that damned strange stare again as Kiffany goes off.

"Why_did_ you buy me pie, Rube?" she asks. Daisy leans over the table, blue eyes shining with curiosity.

"Yeah, is something up?" I sigh, leaning back and resting my arm on the top of the booth behind George.

"Does something have to be up for me to put a smile on my girl's face?" I ask. Daisy and George exchange glances.

"Yes," they say in unison, and I feel my eyes roll of their own accord.

"I'm just in a good mood this morning." I check my post-it and start collecting my things only to realize that they're with Roxy. A feeling of emptiness threatens to overwhelm me, but I hold it back and put the note into my pocket carefully. "Now, ladies, if you'll excuse me, I have a soul to reap." I rise from the table and turn to Daisy, then take her hand and gently brush my lips against it. "It's been a pleasure, Miss Adair," I say. She stares at me.

"Likewise," she replies quietly, stunned. I then turn to farewell George, but she has just managed to wolf down the rest of her pie and is now rising, as well.

"Where's your reap? I have one soon, maybe we can go together," she says around the food still in her mouth. I check her post-it and sure enough, our reaps our close together in both time and place. Perfect, really. I smile and offer my arm with a bow.

"I would be honored," I say. She takes my arm with a smile.

"Thanks for the pie." I nod, then glance back at Daisy.

"Good-bye, Daisy."

"Good-bye, Rube," she says, still rather confused. I give her a last smile, then escort George out of Der Wauffle Haus, but not before giving a last respectful nod to Kiffany, who waves genially in reply. I pause before stepping over the threshold. It's only a slight hesitation; not enough for George to notice, but enough to pay my last respects to the best headquarters I've ever had.

Outside, George heads directly for my truck, but I shake my head and steer her towards her Mustang instead. When she gives me a questioning look, I just shrug.

"I won't be needing it for this." She seems to accept that, and we end up driving to the reap-site in style.

It's a church, of all places. George parks across the street and we sit and look at it for a moment. She then checks her post-it and points to the house we parked in front of.

"This is where my reap is, in about," she checks her watch, "fifteen minutes."

"Mine's at that church, in eight." I have memorized the name, address, and E.T.D. of my post-it. I turn to George with a sigh and a smile. "I should get going, peanut."

"Okay." I hesitate, then lean over slowly and give her a soft kiss on her head.

"Be good, Georgia," I say. "I'll be watching." Then I get out of the car and cross the road, leaving her speechless behind me.

The church is beautiful, built in an old Gothic style. I enter and am immediately consumed by a feeling of serenity, almost like the "powers that be" know why I am here. There is only one other person in the church, and as I enter the sanctuary, I know he is my reap. His write-up said he was seventeen, and a senior in high school. My hands start to shake as I approach him. There are no other reapers around to help him cope immediately, like I was there for George, and he is so young. I kneel in the pew two rows behind him, watching the back of his blonde head with trepidation. How will he die?

I glance at my post-it. It says "L. Carton. E.T.D. - 9:49 AM." I check my watch. 9:44.

"Lucas?" A voice comes from behind the altar. The boy's head snaps up.

"Yeah?" He has a pleasant tenor voice.

"Can you help me with this?" I can't see the owner of the voice from behind the altar, but it is definitely male. Maybe the priest?

"Sure, Father," the boy says, rising from his kneel. _Bingo_, I think, then stand myself and catch up to the boy before he can leave the sanctuary. I pretend to trip and manage to grab his shoulder.

"Sorry," I mutter as he turns. He wears thin glasses, and his eyes are almost as light blue as Daisy's. He's so _young_.

"It's all right. Are you okay?" he asks, helping me regain the balance I had never actually lost.

"Yeah, thanks," I say. He smiles and then walks toward the altar, and I allow my hand to drop from his shoulder, taking his soul with me.

That's it. I'm finished. I close my eyes and wait, but then realize it won't happen until the boy - Lucas - actually dies. So I kneel again, and wait.

It comes so suddenly. A minute or so passes, and then there's a shout, and - shockingly - a gunshot. My eyes fly open; I hadn't been expecting that.

Then suddenly the surprise leaves, as does every other human emotion I feel or have ever felt. All is replaced with a wonderful elation, and then I realize that I'm actually floating... kind of. I look up at the altar and see a blue doorway waiting for me. Finally. For _me_. From beyond it I can hear the laughing voice of my darling Ruthie, calling me "Daddy" and urging me onward. I walk toward it in a trance, but before I step through I see Lucas's dead body behind the altar, blood running down the side of his pale face. Then I actually see _him_, watching me with wide eyes.

"Wait!" he calls. "What do I do now?"

"You'll find a girl across the street. Her name is George, and she is like you. She can explain everything." I pause; the beautiful blue is so tempting, and I can still here my girl, but I know I have to take care of this first. "Just tell her you're from Rube." The boy still looks confused as hell, but that's to be expected; after all, he did just get shot by a priest. I turn back to the altar in time to watch the priest scuttle out of the sanctuary, gun still in hand, and think, _Good riddance._ Then I let out a breath, close my eyes, and step through.

_Good, good-bye_

_I'll be fine_

_Good, good-bye_

_Good, good-night_

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Comments are love, people! Thanks!_  
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